Love Potion 14
by She-Who-Is-Not-To-Be-Psycho
Summary: Aphrodisiac, Imitative and Loveslaving Potion. A disgruntled Professor of Potions Severus Snape, Malfoy's potionforcefed, Hermione didn't follow the instructions and only Harry Potter appears to remain unaffected. Sixth year redo with a couple of twists.
1. The Unwilling Drinker

**Title:** Love Potion #14  
By She-Who-Is-Not-To-Be-Psycho!  
**Summary: **A "What if…", non-cliché, canon version of the Love Potion fanfics: an insight by Severus Snape. Valentine's Day Special. Notes: This should have happened in Harry Potter's 6th year; there're no spoilers from HBP  
**Rating: **+16 to be safe  
**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron. Starring: In-Love-With-Herself Pansy  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter world, books or characters. JKRowling does.

* * *

CHAPTER ONE: The Unwilling Drinker

"Rose petals, Apple, Forget Me Not pollen, Lovage, Ashwinders' eggs," would start Snape that one fateful class. "It should be bleeding obvious what these have in common."

Snape passed by Hermione's raised hand while his eyes focused on Neville. "At least, the brightest of you should get it... and other such lucky guesses."

Rumors have been on it since the early morning. The giggling girls would gossip and the most of the normal students would be skeptical. But then there they were; Snape was standing before the class, the chalk inscription in the blackboard reading Love Potions.

"Due to the dangers of the upcoming Valentine's Day and of possible intoxication, the staff believed –" This had Dumbledore's name all over it, "that it would be instructive the students were assisted in the knowledge of how a love potion would taste and feel like."

Most students were now edging off their seats in expectation.

"It will be tested on you, though it is, of course, not necessary because I could tell if such an insultingly easy potion was right by its intense red color. For a better understanding, let's begin with a lecture of the study of the variety of Love Potions."

Said students fell back into their chairs with mute disappointment.

"There are three branches of love potions, one more dangerous that the one before. The first, the acception of which is the usual taken when we think of love potions, is the Aphrodisiac, otherwise known as Lust Potion. If you posses half a brain you will reason out its use. _It's self explanatory, Longbottom_."

Neville cowering on his seat, Snape continued. "Conceptually, some love potions make you co-dependent and therefore could fall under the category of Dark Magic. Also, those use blood of the person to-fall-for and the drinker must be constantly fed of that same blood, as in vampirism.

"This potion should be called Love-Slaving Potion or Imperious Love Potions - ILP. This is the second kind of Love Potion. In some wizarding governments, ILP poisoning is considered a punishable crime. Graciously, ours is one of those governments."

Trademark Snape's evil smirk of satisfaction insert here.

"Imitative Potions, also self explanatory. Often, this kind works with the drinker's perception, such as... love at first sight." The words came though gritted teeth. "Those are very few and Merlin forbids I let you engage in any kind of random choosing of partner... fret not. We are intensifying the choosing with a couple of hairs from your partner. Taste is more assertive than sight.

"Possibly the least of the three evils, this last is; the Imitative or Loving Potions:

"You cannot increase further affection in degrees or levels. In opposition, Aphrodisiacs only increment existing attraction; sometimes a very powerful lust that causes short-term memory lost... However, the duration of the affection in the Loving Potions can be strictly manipulated at will – of the brewer's, that is – in contrast with the other potions."

Proudly having managed to even make a class such as Love Potions into a boring, excruciating mental process for the alumni, Potions Master Severus Snape proceeded to make the dreaded announcement, "Now, in pairs."

The instructions appeared on the board.

"The kind of Love Potion we are going to experiment with today is the last. Anything more powerful is sickeningly sweetish, so, don't worry; you will be able to tell." Snape's eyes glinted strangely. "True, hormones can be fought with the least of self control, but I don't hope lots of you have it...

"The moment ILP touches your lips, it won't make a difference you recognize you have been poisoned as you would have by then lost all use of reason and free will." The information produced shivers of dread while he stared impassively.

Draco Lucius Malfoy sneered disgusted at the attitude of the class. Love _Potions_ (even if not spoken his very thoughts sounded as if he meant to spit the word with spite.) They should not make such ado about _that_. He expected no other response from Pansy, but so were things in the Slytherin fraction of Hogwarts. It was... Pansy.

The girl herself was a real ambivalence. For a start, she had surprised Draco with an initial attitude of disinterest, "but it's not real love, so I don't see the fuss in that." However, her interest was obvious. A scary glint came to her eyes and she was devoted to her reading of the textbook.

"Draco, did you know? The Potion has no effect on those already 'caught in infatuation with the affection-target'," Pansy repeated, visibly marveled.

"Of course, isn't it obvious?" Draco drawled loudly, put out to be interrupted mid-joke he was sharing with Crabbe about a certain group of Gryffindors that sat close to them. Pansy nodded, "Now I think of it, it's rather logical."

She smiled and went back to work. Stress on "smiled". Something was definitely amiss in this whole ordeal.

"The marking of this assignment will be worth half the year points."

Snape was decided to make of this class something unpleasant.

As you guessed, Draco Malfoy worked on that fateful class with Pansy Parkinson as partner. Draco had not put it too much thought into it. Not in the start. But then some thoughts started to disturb him.

Love Potion #14's effects were powerful but subtle, and they lasted short --for a period of one hour as they would be adding just one Rosa Reina petal to the mix, so, about the length of the class. Draco was rather confident to perceive the effects the potion would have on him. It was not every day you felt like snogging somebody's face off in Malfoy's life. And, judging by Pansy's everyday expression, this was what being in love was about.

As he set the cauldron with the flame at its highest, adding cinnamon and apple juice to the red wine, Malfoy grew edgy. Draco had a good deal of self-control he prided himself on. A self control, in fact, that he would rather _not_ publicly lose...

"It's mistaken as an Aphrodisiac, but if you were seeking to capture the person's attention as the drinker, a Beautifying Potion would be best. The sensation should be as if a surge of hot lava was licking your interior. Like Unctuous Unction, it creates feelings; it allows you to _believe_ something."

"Ooooh!"

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were an avid audience to that class' lecture like never before, taking notes as if it was Divination we were talking about. Right now, they paid close attention to Hermione. And, it might not be as apparent, but a couple of Slytherin girls were as attentive.

"The spice and the spark are volitional ingredients when together, so now be careful when mixing, it can cause some adverse reactions," Hermione was telling them. She seemed to like the change of attitude over one of her trademark lectures.

Snape made no attempt to regain authority over the class or censure Hermione. Right. He was relieved not to have to be explaining those things himself. But back to the story.

In the Gryffindor side of the classroom, Hermione agreed to give a little of her hair to Harry, Neville and Ron for the benefits of the study.

Harry had already decided he was not going to add the hairs to his potion. You know, he'd never get in between Ron and Hermione. Many reasons were for him to take such a noble stance. First, they were rather perfect for each other. Second: potential loss of friendship.

Third and most important: because, when it came to their love-hate relationship, they became... capable of vicious murder. Harry had something against jeopardizing the integrity of his persona over an induced love triangle, so meanwhile he pushed his attention to his illegible scrabble:

_Imperious potion, only brewed under the full moon, veela hairs, nutmeg... Aphrodisiac, increases existing hormonal activity, strawberries... Loving Potion: red wine, seven rose petals, frozen ashwinter eggs..._

Draco, suddenly, _really_ didn't want to be love-stuck with the squealing Pansy. One after the other, the boys started to act like monkeys, desperate to get some spotty girl's attention. They cursed each other and blushed and stammered. It looked like a vicious trap – a cruel, sadistic trap.

Thus why he was attentive to ways to sabotage a potion. Any helpful tip from Granger's speech... Anything. It never came. As it was, he will not be adding any hairs (no harm in a void potion.)

Such a plan was conjured at the time he heard the clipping sound of scissors passing by his ear – Pansy had just now cut some strands of Malfoy's hair and hers, the heck!

He straightened his face and tried not to show the flow of emotions taking place right now. (Emotions that worked like a tiny voice in his mind saying, 'Do not show panic; they smell the fear!') In fact, he turned away when the uncomfortable feeling of shame and claustrophobia that had crept to his facial complexion, threatening to exteriorize.

That's it. He'd just throw the hairs away.

His fist closed around the hairs and he moved it under the desk. But as he did, his gaze landed, or was drawn unconsciously even in times of such agitation, to a figure across the room. Smirk. A plot formed in Malfoy's mind. Telling Pansy he was going to look for nutmeg, hands in pockets, Draco went pass that figure and nonchalantly dropped the blond hairs in Harry Potter's cauldron.

He was received when back by a broadly-beaming Pansy who had added "more" of her own hairs to _his_ potions ('cause, you know, she felt it has not the right shade of red). And now Snape joined them to check their work. Pansy was watching him like a hawk.

"Excelent, Mr Malfoy," said Snape in his cold, acid voice. "It looks like an Outstanding. It's reassuring to have the odd serious student within all the incompetence."

Malfoy's smirk was pronounced. Both equally smug faces were drawn to the eyes he _knew_ were on him… But, as fast, Malfoy felt a clapping and a squeal, and turned, almost with panic, to Pansy who had almost jumped on her seat in enthusiasm, "Bravo, Draco!" And a cold sweat ran down Malfoy's spine.

He had no choice but to drink. He knew it, reached this point. A perfect potion, in times like these, he almost wished he was not so undeniably talented. Anyhow, perfect grades could not be wasted. Malfoy pulled a straight face as, with imaginary doom background music, he filled the stupid vial and... here goes nothing...

He could tell there was a change (predictably, he was not feeling very loving of Parkinson just before). It was... an annoying feeling on the pit of his stomach; a burning sensation, hot... a lovely metaphor of gastrointestinal acid.

He could barely stop himself from jumping three feet on the air when he felt a hand rest on his leg... and start moving... and caress him... and the eyes of Pansy staring at him lovingly and that bubbling sensation...

Draco, at first, was speechless, unmoving, and his mouth fell open. Next...

"Get your filthy hands off me, Parkinson!"

Harry was startled into choking on his steamy, purplish-red drink.

For the love of bloody Merlin! Did he have to publish it in howlers?! Harry had not yet met who to be bloody interested in the private aspects of Malfoy's personal life. But what the Daily Prophet did of Harry's without his consent, Malfoy would willingly let circulate. Oh Harry would have liked to take a more active reaction than glaring.

Call him ticklish but this class had not gone well as it was without the unmistakable sound of Malfoy's voice filling his ears. Don't get him wrong, Ron was his mate and best friend. But at times like this one would rather punch him in the freckled nose.

"Don't look at her like that! You too, Harry—"

Harry turned to _his good mate Ron_. "I wasn't even looking up from my parchment!"

"Well, good!"

As evident from our previous example, Ron got angry and suspicious of the stares others were giving Hermione. Harry's first sip was wary – not of the potions effects, but of what we will call "Ron Effects". Neville had gone second, drinking the potion that is, and he duly paid for his dreamy expression.

Hence why Harry would be watching Ron's reaction as he drank, until, well, the point where Malfoy's shouted that.

Stupid prick.

Surprisingly, Neville in fact became _more_ courageous in speech. (A surprising question of "Uh, what are you doing after class, Hermione?" had all but Ron gapping, the latter answering for her, "She's going to study! Back off!")

Back to our conversation, Neville spoke up, "I wasn't looking her way either, Ron –"

"I SAW you look!" Ron rejoined.

"What about you, Ron? You stop looking at her!" bit back Neville.

"I'm not looking at her like you do!" Ron retorted defensively.

"You are looking the way we are looking!" said Neville.

"No, I'm not!" Ron said with an offended frown. "Neville, I told you to stop staring!"

"Oh, please, Ron."

It did not take long before Hermione got uncomfortable under the stares and started to regret her generousness. As they bickered, Harry's attention moved back to the Slytherin wing of the classroom. It was something he had become used to do, his ears perked at the sound of Snape's addressing Malfoy – maybe it was his way to perceive the challenge in their voices, what was that they would say this bloody time? What completely infuriating thing could they come up with?

But in this case, it was about quite a different matter. Harry turned back to the Slytherin soap-opera with what was more like a feeling of curiosity...

In "Malfoy Wizarding Days", today: Pansy's face flashed confusion, surprise and hurt; Harry felt the tiny spark of pity in his chest. Fast as it came, the expression was replaced as soon in her face and she looked like she had found a new respect for herself. Cold, bashing respect.

"I can't remember why I'd do that," she said, switching her attention to the next thing. "Pay me no attention."

Harry stared, incredulous. He was not the first and only. Crabbe and Goyle stopped fighting for the love of Tracey Davies to "huh"... and "huh" again. Seamus was distracted from his gloating as Lavender praised him, both by Malfoy's outburst and Pansy's putting him on place. Even Snape stopped aiding Theodore Nott to appear by Malfoy's side, stopping, of course, to glare on Harry's way as if this all was his fault.

Malfoy was proudly glaring at them; proudly pink with embarrassment and returning to Pansy.

"Indeed, you wouldn't know!" he blurted with outrage. "Have you lost your mind for exposure to all that hairdryer?"

Behind them, Goyle gave a snicker, as it was common after Malfoy delivered an insult – something he must have learned to do out of reflex. Malfoy, well, despite the change of subject to insult, welcomed Goyle's laugh with a self-proud smirk...

"So, I've heard the witchy weekly products are going bankrupt because they can't cope with the high demand," Malfoy continued, "What happened, Pansy, had a pimp and had to use all of it on yourself?"

Tentatively, Crabbe joined in a bit of laughter.

"But of course, I should let you know, not all the hair and beauty products in the United Kingdom can do much to fix your face. What happened, a Transfiguration spell gone wrong? Or Bulstrode has been giving you beauty tips?"

The two goons laughed in unequal periods, the rest of the wing was silent. Well, even Millicent was probably in too much of a shock to crack her knuckles threateningly. As for the Gryffindor wing, Lavender and Parvati giggled and ow-ed, and there was Harry Potter, gapping.

"Are you looking at her though a reflection?" paranoid!Ron asked Harry just as he noticed one of the members of the group was not really looking Hermione's way.

"Huh, no, mate," said Harry unable to pray his eyes from the Slytherin interaction.

Ron had gone so silent Harry felt compelled to turn to him at last; the sight that greeted him was that of a pale-looking Ron, his mouth gapping open.

"W-what?" asked Harry, suddenly edgy. Ron grimaced as if in pain now, and groaned.

"You drank the potion then... it must mean you..." He groaned again.

It took several minutes for Harry's eyebrows to shoot up in understanding. "No, Ron, you are wrong—"

"Do you think I want YOU!"

At that time Malfoy chose to loudly sneer for everybody to hear.

"I don't want to get into this conversation," said Pansy. "You should enjoy a caress; now I think about it, you never seemed to think them invasive before," analytically noted in response a disinterested Pansy to the ever vicious Draco Malfoy. And it wasn't in the usual polishing-my-nails nasty way either.

"From you? No, thanks!" He was looking at Pansy down and up in a depreciative manner, a look Harry knew well – it made his blood boil! "I don't remember ever _enjoying a caress_! Whoever said I'd ever wanna _touch_ you!"

"Harry, you should have told me! You-you are a bad friend!"

"Huh, what? Ron?"

"You too, 'mione! You probably knew, hiding this behind my back!"

Drawn from watching the Malfoy-Pansy domestic argument, Harry was torn. Torn between pity on his best friend's pained expression and wanting to strangle him dead. Neville was defending Hermione heartedly. Hermione was in the middle bickering at Ron for being such a prick, and growing emotional (that is to say, hysterical) was it not for the shock of Neville aiding her.

Amidst the bickering, Snape had the look on his face that read, 'I knew I was getting myself into chaos itself.' And he looked like he swore upon Laverne de Montmorency's dead carcass. Oh yes. Love potions are trouble.

Professor Snape left the classroom just before the bell signaling the end of the class, the sound drawn by the same hysterical ruckus. In the given circumstances, Harry moodily picked up his text books and rose to leave with the threesome behind. As he did, he passed by the very same couple of Malfoy and Pansy – when he did, it turned into 'following', in fact, as he was curious to see what was going on between those two.

Malfoy did not regard the eavesdropping figure of Harry until he was finished with his current bashing to the indifferent ears of his ex, "Oh look at me! I'm Parkinson and 'cause I'm blond everyone should knee too me! Look, I'm Pansy-I'd-get-in-anybody's-pants-'cause-I'm-so-full-of-myself-Parkinson!"

At which time he spotted Potter.

Malfoy's frown became a growing smile and Harry raised an eyebrow in response. "Problems in the household?"

Malfoy caught up with Harry, bringing the unconcerned Pansy along by the wrist.

"Hey, Potter, don't you have something to say to Pansy here?" Oh, Draco almost wished he had pulled this joke on Pansy and not on Potter.

Harry, temple numb in a glare, regarded the two in turns. "Yes. Welcome to my world. Now you know how much of a git – _you_ are."

Pansy snorted while Malfoy's face transformed with rage.

"Such affectionate words, I'm sure it touches her heart. Well, welcome to my world you _too_, Potter." He pushed Pansy towards the other boy, and mocked, "Now look at you! You're so obviously made for each other."

Harry huh?-ed. Pansy whined, "I don't really _need_ to be in a relationship, do I?"

"I'm not thinking of starting one myself, thank you!" Potter agreed quickly, edging away from her and the implications.

"Yes, you do!" decided Draco, fast, frowning and bewildered. "What's wrong with you?!" A few microseconds of no response were before Malfoy added, "Pff, shows what a pathetic attempt of a potion you can produce."

As if offended, Draco walked away from them both down the corridors.

Sideways and uncomfortable, Harry eyed the person by his side. Pansy hadn't moved from her place watching the retreating figure of Draco Malfoy. It was quite unusual for Pansy not to swoon over Malfoy. Harry Potter knew it, the Slytherins knew it, the Wizarding World knew it! So it must all be a fake, Harry decided. She was probably heartbroken by his rejection but bravely wouldn't show it. It almost made one... feel respect for her.

Harry hesitated, and with a sigh, decided pity was stronger than him. "Pansy?" he started, "Er... Look, if you want to come over with me, Ron and Hermione...?"

Pansy turned around, her expression so cold it shook him. "Why would I want to do that?" she asked incredulous and grimacing, before turning and leaving by herself.

Harry huh-ed again. It was a dreadful realization to note he was becoming as eloquent as Crabbe and Goyle. Frankly, this was more than he needed to grow a headache. And only now he remembered he wasn't a fan of soap-operas, too.

He would have loved that had been the last he would need to see of the Slytherins for the rest of the day.


	2. Awkward

**Title: **Love Potion #14  
By She-Who-Is-Not-To-Be-Psycho!  
**Summary: **Alternative to the 6th book if Snape had taught Love Potions.  
**Rating: **+16 to be safe  
**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron. Starring: In-Love-With-Herself Pansy  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter world, books or characters. JKRowling does.

* * *

CHAPTER TWO: Awkward

Ron groaned. "And we will have classes with the Slytherins, too?!"

It kind of reminisced one of what happened earlier in Potions. Ron shook his head but surprisingly his expression was such he could smile. "Well, I'll try to look at it from the bright side. At least no more Love Potion, right?"

Hermione, for some reason, had grown agitated since Potions and was not looking up from her book. "It's going to last a bit longer. We all finished the potion by the end of the period and drank it 5 minutes before the bell rang."

Ron wore such pained expression you would think he was playing hurt-puppy. "Do you mean this is going to last for the whole next hour?"

"Well, Ron," said Hermione who for some reason looked ruffled, pink and quite obviously irritated. "If you had paid attention to professor Snape's class, you should know. But since it's so frustrating to be in your current state interested in me," she went some shades pinker, "why don't you go back and ask the professor for an antidote!"

"Why would I want to see Snape again!" Ron whined.

Hermione opened her mouth and her face could have exploded with rage, "You! You— are so –"

"Hey! Why don't you get mad with Harry too, he also drank the love potion!" complained Ron.

"He is not making a drama over it!" Hermione told him, "You are the one acting like you had been... been... poisoned out of your real self!"

"So we agree!" stated Ron furious. "Harry is acting normal, so it must mean he – he likes you!"

"No! Well, I don't know. But, I don't think –" Hermione became progressively flustered red. "Well, what about you! You are overreacting! Is this how you treat the person you love?"

"I'm not overreacting! I am poisoned with love potion!"

"You are _beyond_ hope!" Hermione walked in a quick pace towards the gates after that snapping leaving Ron and Harry behind to follow on their own pace.

At this time and place, Harry's expression started to look like that of Snape before the end of the class.

Neville at least seemed to have regained some sense, and he apologized and shied away putting some distance between them all, deciding he preferred not to cause any further fights. Of course, Ron was not there to hear any of this or Harry presumed another discussion for the attention of Hermione would arise. Maybe Ron would accuse Neville of being too noble.

Neville was probably the one to have paid the lower price in this whole ordeal. Maybe his potion had been especially weak. Any case, Harry wanted to follow his example and leave those two alone but Hermione had grabbed him by the arm in her "don't be silly" stance and Ron was back before he could fled.

So now, there they were, exiting to the grounds in their 15 minute break.

Harry could understand Hermione's frustration. Though, knowing how Ron was in regular terms, he would have to give it to Ron, Hermione was especially touchy about this subject. After one or two minutes of silent walking, the quiet was broken.

Ron raised a hand to his hair, troubled. "Do you think she's mad at me?"

Harry suppressed with all his might not rolling his eyes. "Do you need me to tell you? You have been acting like a lunatic all day."

Ron frowned defensive. "Well, I'm under a love potion, I-I'm supposed to be all wacko, am I not?"

"I don't know," Harry answered quite truthfully. "What is Pansy doing?"

Ron frowned but nonetheless followed this new track of conversation. So he turned his attention where his friend's was.

The girl in question was lying flat on her stomach on the grounds, and only her face hovered over the edge of what was the start of the lake.

"I think she's trying to kiss her own reflection at the lake," Ron offered and shrugged.

Harry frowned as well with his eyes fixed on the girl. But Harry was less casual in this change of conversation as the listener would think. As a matter of fact, he was fighting to conceal that he was rather tense, because at that moment, by-passing the three was none other than Draco Malfoy. All the most obvious that he was speaking loudly for Pansy to hear.

"And then I hear she never learned how to properly tie her hair with magic, so that's why she wears it _loose_, so it doesn't look _muggle_!"

Harry, unable to help himself, felt his own feet moving forwards to move over there. So, it was not his problem, fine, but somebody _had_ to put Malfoy on his place. And damned he be if he wasn't going to be that someone…

"Look at her, it's the Parkinson!" Draco let himself stop behind her as if casually –nevertheless, an obviously premeditated action – and was gesturing her to his friends Crabbe and Goyle.

"Where's that Tracey Davies girl you hang up with?" he drawled, looking around. "Also noticed how _boring_ you are? Tired of playing your shadow?

"You know, it's a pity people with so pure linage can become the waste of the wizarding hierarchy like that. But you don't need me telling you, you know _your_ own family."

Crabbe and Goyle looked pretty lost, even for the usual look of confusion they wore. Goyle's laugh came rather late and lame. Pansy's careless retort was something of the lines of, "Were you talking to me?"

And Crabbe punched Malfoy on the nose--

"Mate," came Ron's voice. It came more or less at the time of Harry's own obvious snort. That served to stop him as he felt himself moving over to reach Malfoy… he was just considering joining them in this surprising punch fest.

He paused and turned, though his eyes did not leave the group. "Yes?" he asked.

"I found Hermione," said Ron. Harry finally turned; Ron had his own eyes fixed somewhere near Hagrid's hut. "I think she is moving to Care of Magical Creatures. Come on."

"Wait, Ron -" Harry tried but Ron had grabbed him from the arm and dragged him all over to the class grounds. Darn him for being taller and bigger than him! And love-potion fed.

--

Hermione was sitting in the "front", looking for all you knew like it was her and nobody else in the entire wide world. Tentatively, Ron joined Harry behind her.

"The break is not over, you know," Ron sulked ever so tactlessly.

Harry supposed Hermione to be mad, yes, but she was altogether not looking at them. At first sight, she was engrossed in reading the very same book from before. Only Harry thought he had seen her tense when they arrived. And her eyes were not altogether moving. She was not reading, just avoiding looking over at them, but why?

It was honestly a relief Ron had not yet noticed this.

"'Mione, can I borrow your quill?" Ron had said, probably in his best attempt to act diplomatic, acting as if nothing was the matter. Hermione complied, bringing the quill to his hand, but retreating said hand immediately and looking at the front. Where, she soon found, there was nothing to be seen and she dropped her gaze to the book again.

Ron exchanged a look with Harry, as in 'what do I do now?' Then he must have remembered Harry was supposed to be as 'lost' as he was and resorted to sulk silently.

And here Harry had been whining about Slytherins…! This had to be one of the most uncomfortable moments in his life.

"I'm going to go," Harry said suddenly and resolutely standing up. What he didn't expect was Hermione turning suddenly to him holding him by the side of his robes, "No!"

Then Ron put the kind of face that showed horror and sulking at the same time, and the smugness of 'see! I knew it, and here were you denying it all!' which was when Hermione immediately released Harry. It didn't help matters much for the overly offended Ron.

Harry stayed, like the other two, there like a dummy for the longest of seconds. They were sitting in the grounds of the CoMC class with no class, alternating between uncomfortable and silent-uncomfortable.

As the silence grew, his own attention abandoned his two friends to stumble upon sight of Malfoy who was sneaking from behind a tree with a smirk and an intention, and then felt a distant hit sound and found, on the other side, there was Pansy with half her face covered in mud and a disgusted expression. Returning to Malfoy, he saw him laughing his head off back on the previous spot.

And suddenly Harry wished he wasn't in this tense situation feeling he couldn't do anything but be stiff.

"Oh, this is just stupid!" Harry said in an outburst. "Look, Ron, the potion must have been having some effects in you two. I didn't drink it – well, I did, but I didn't use Hermione's hairs. And Hermione –"

He opened his mouth, and closed it, for a second lost of what to say. "Just explain to us... well, to Ron... whatever it needs to be explained!" Well, that came out well.

Hermione's face immediately, even inhumanly, became several shades of red and she was looking down again, while Ron was looking up, almost hopeful. "You didn't drink the potion, I mean, with the hair?" He didn't smile but his eyes were child-like bright.

"No, I... Hermione?"

--

Draco had been walking Pansy back for quite some time, sputtering half insults her way and gapping for periods. It was unsightly to see him right now. Whatever he made up, whatever he sputtered... Pansy just didn't seem to get it.

"Me and Crabbe have a bit of a discussion here, you see," he stuttered uncomfortably for a whole three seconds (unsightly!) before he came up with this now. "Is it that love decreases the drinker's IQ or it's just you?"

There was no answer.

"What's wrong with _your_ potion?" he drawled. "It doesn't appear like your brain registers what the effects are." An easy smirk grew on his face.

Nothing.

"Are you sure you shouldn't be checking with professor Snape? You probably poisoned yourself," he started snickering while saying 'poisoned'.

Silence.

He turned his head back as if to speak to Crabbe and Goyle walking behind him.

"Yes, I could be injected lust potion enough to put heat into a rhino and_ I_ wouldn't touch her, but we know she's another different story… So maybe you killed whatever hormones you had—not that's a great loss," he snorted loudly, sounding fake; "If anything, it's a greatest fate for humanity."

Reaction he got from the back of Pansy's head: zero.

Now you didn't see much of it, but Malfoy was positively frustrated. OK, you did see some of it, but not this strong. Never had he had to stop walking and pull himself together when in the middle of… this! Whatever was WRONG with this woman!

Draco held his head his in hand ready to pull his hairs off, scratching his face deformed. An image of him wrestling with Pansy came to mind, if he had ever felt like pounding a girl's face in... Oddly, that was good enough to recover his humor. Pounding Pansy's head it… Pushing her to the ground, and just pound that face in! It was better than daydream charms.

With the new, growing smirk, he called, "Five minutes, that's all I'm giving that self-control of yours, _Parkinson."_

Hermione was looking up and down immediately, and each time lowering her face more. Though, in the plus side, she was not turning away from them any more. Though it surely looked like it was taking a lot of effort...

"'Mione, do you feel sick?" asked ever-so-bluntly Ron Weasley.

Hermione shook his head without raising it. "No, I'm... sorry, could you... um, I don't think it's, maybe yes –" and she groaned. It was a long kind of groan.

This is a fine time for mail to arrive, some deity must have decided for them; none but a one of Harry's least favorite people had signed the letter attached to the owl that just had started to make its ways over there.

"It's nothing, I just I would prefer it if we moved under a tree shadow... if you don't mind?" Hermione continued as Harry detached the letter from the owl. Even the last part sounded like a groan, Harry noticed, with a bewildered expression. "I just feel-- I-I must have gotten a sunstroke."

Hermione had at last looked up to reveal a red face, and was displaying a lot of twitchy kind of body gestures. At that, when Hermione finally turned to leave for a tree shadow, she had only looked Harry's way.

And Ron asked the question Harry had suppressed asking so not to expose Hermione, "Why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you!" but the message totally lost its purpose when Hermione blocked her face from view even if she turned Ron's way.

"Alrigh, Harry? Ron? 'Mione...?"

Hagrid was approaching them from inside his hut and he even had the delicacy to make the situation more obvious by hesitating at the last. "Yer Gods, 'Mione, do yer feel well? Would yer like to go to the 'ospital wing?" Oh and that too.

Hermione waved her hand in dismissal, even frantically. She repeated the motion harder when Hagrid insisted "yer sure?" as some other students were passing by them.

On the other hand, other than the sulking Ron and the nervous Hermione, Harry had gone into his own private silence while reading the letter. His expression settled into a frown and the slight twitch of an eyebrow.

"It's everything alright, Harry?" asked Hermione. Harry looked up – he was almost disoriented by Hermione's lowered face. How could he ever tell his worry if she wasn't... He shook his head.

"It's nothing," he said but his expression remained stony as he re-read the letter. "Got to go," he said and he rose from the ground.

"Ya'll come fer class, ye, Harry?" asked Hagrid worried. Harry didn't get to give him an answer.


	3. Love Pentagon

**Title: **Love Potion #14  
By She-Who-Is-Not-To-Be-Psycho!  
**Summary: **Alternative to the 6th book if Snape had taught Love Potions.  
**Rating: **+16 to be safe  
**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron. Starring: In-Love-With-Herself Pansy  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter world, books or characters. JKRowling does.

* * *

CHAPTER THREE: Love Pentagon

There are some people whose writing is illegible even to their own selves. For example, those who write a dot so pronounced, it could as well be a zero or an "o." A one that looked like a seven… Harry belonged to this last group of people. Oh the futility of human error…

_Potter, _

_Your performance in Potions was absolutely shameful. Be on your way to my office immediately. Deduction of points will be assigned depending on your promptness to my call._

_Professor Snape._

Snape was expecting him in the office in question, looking as if he had just sat down.

"Ah, _Potter_," he regarded the boy with a deep, poisonous tone. "You took your time like with everything else to come to answer my request. That would be… 10 points from Gryffindor."

Harry walked over the desk silently and, finding no other choice, sat behind the desk. At that time, Snape laid over the desk _his_ paper with a big, red D.

"Congratulations, Potter, it was a most horrendous work. I think you have surpassed my expectative of how incompetent you can be," however, this was unsurprisingly said with his lips forming a little smirk of satisfaction as he spoke.

"I expect you have been poisoned with love potion 14 for the last hour and you have other six to go. Now, as I said, this becomes half your year's grades…"

He leaned backwards, almost as if to savor this more. "And now about the second issue… I've a counter-acting potion in my possession… I could give you this antidote, but I don't see why I should waste it on your error."

Another smile and wistful sigh of satisfaction at his most correct appreciation. "You can continue to swoon over your perfect girl for the five and so hours the effects last."

Harry gritted his teeth and out of reflex, and the temptation of causing disappointment in Snape, he bit back, "I was lucky I didn't put hairs in my potion, then."

Snape's eyes and his head rose very slowly. "Potter," he spoke slowly and verbally looking down on the boy, "it makes no difference.

"If you had paid any attention in class, which I would be surprised you had, you would know the potion acts by sensorial perception, weather you look at them, touch them or smell them. What little difference it could make to you that you did not add the hairs was that the target was found by sight instead of taste."

Harry's eyes widened. Put aside the fall-for-first-person-you-look-at cliché for a moment, and this was some significant, terrifying piece of information.

This revelation meant he was _supposed_ to feel different all of last hour – but how? Most importantly, for whom? He tried to recall, what was that he did when he sipped... An image of him self bringing the vial to his lips and watching carefully for Ron's reaction was what appeared in his mind.

_He was in love with Ron?!_

"Potter," Snape's voice drew Harry's out of his reverie – the kind of condescending tone that said 'I know it must be the revelation of your life, your true love... but I supremely don't care.' "You have nothing to do in my office, I'm absolutely sure. You might leave, go to your next class or something."

Harry was in such a daze in fact that he almost found himself crashing face first into the closed door instead of going though. Something that must have amused Snape, Harry was sure, even within that evil, over-acted sigh of exasperation.

Coming out from Snape's, Harry bumped into Malfoy going in, face low pensive... Truly, the boy was not himself; didn't even notice Harry was in front of him.

"Malfoy!" Harry regarded him, out of an impulse. "What are you doing…?"

Malfoy frowned upon sight of Harry as well. "What are _you_ doing over here?"

"None of your business," retorted Harry, and this was the painfully perfect opening for Malfoy to say, smug and with a raised eyebrow, "Another fail, I note?"

Harry sneered. "What about you? I'm sure no love potion should make you shout at your _sweetheart_."

Malfoy suddenly seemed to have problems to breath. "Don't call her _that_!"

"You cared that much?" Harry said, his expression smug as well as curious as he started to move away. Draco Malfoy was staring back at him, quite unexpectedly at loss of words and, in the end, sneering.

_That Potter! __Whoever told him he could meddle with my life? _The aggressive smile of challenge lingered as he walked inside.

--

"What do you mean, of course Parkinson can't have her potion right!" Draco protested and leaned over his professor desk. "She just isn't…_talking_ to me! And we know she has silly fancied me since always!"

"Well, maybe, Mr Malfoy," said Professor Snape, rubbing his temples in his attempt to regain composure, "you shouldn't have attacked her while at my class. Never worry, though, your own interest will disappear in moments from now. Nevertheless, if you so wish, I could provide you the antidote –"

"Not me!" he raged. "Are you not listening? It's Pansy who's been acting strange!"

"Yet her potion has been graded as being _just fine_," Professor Snape retorted, his voice in a dangerous edge. "A bit overly sweet, I imagine, but it could not have addled with nothing but her personal judgment. I'm not changing her grade, Mr Malfoy."

"Well, then, that's what is wrong then!" Draco decided, rising to straighten up composed. "I'll have that antidote and get her to drink it." He held out his hand towards the Potions Master.

"But of course," Professor Snape had said, turning around to reach for a potion in the shelves behind his desk without rising from the chair. He handed, no, we should say he was stolen the potion from his hand by Draco's own. Draco held the bottle in his hand, curiously peering at it, and Professor Snape folded his arms over the desk.

"Will that be all you need, Mr Malfoy," he asked, with only the subtle hint of sarcasm. "No, that would be all," was Mr Malfoy's own unique retort. Draco walked out of the office without a goodbye, holding the bottle and ogling at it like something very powerful had been given to him.

Which, Professor Snape knew, it wasn't. Whatever use that potion was going to be given by Malfoy, it was going to be impossibly bad and merely nothing but good.

--

A trip to the toilet later to talk himself into… walking out, and then Harry got to the Grounds for Care of Magical Creatures.

He spotted Hermione and Ron at the front of the class, and joined them tentatively, biting his own lip while watching Ron. Now he had to pick something, anything. It couldn't be that difficult, he pondered… right?

He bypassed Crabbe and Goyle who sat at either side of Tracey Davies. Malfoy looked odd alone, but as smug as ever. Even, maybe, more than usual.

Then came Pansy, late, strutting to the class grounds with a healthy smile and looking like someone who had nothing missing in her life.

"Gather aroun', gather aroun'!" Hagrid told the students followed by the distinctive sound of a girl ouch (Pansy was holding the side of her hair pouting over it while Malfoy, by her side, bit his own finger to stop himself from laughing). "Y'all haf to follow me, so up yer go!"

Harry's eyes lingered in the cracked trophy couple, because Malfoy was whispering something to Pansy Harry couldn't help feeling edgy about, and had to catch up to Ron and Hermione. The three, Ron, Harry and Hermione walked forwards the quickest to reach Hagrid in the front, who was moving in large steps down the pumpkin patch. Because they were ahead in the group, Ron felt safe to press the matter.

"Not avoiding me, huh?" Harry felt his heart do a weird jump. "'Mione, what did the potion do to you?" Oh it was only that… Ron had a defensive, glaring expression. Harry had just walked himself into something. "What hairs did you use for your potion anyways?"

Even in her current state, and walking while looking only forwards, Hermione did respond. "I didn't use."

Both Ron and Harry looked surprised— or should we say, their attention was captured, and she added fast, "We had to brew number 14 but I got all the ingredients, so I brewed... a lust potion. So I didn't need any hairs."

The blush was five times redder. Had she looked Ron and Harry's faces, it might have been even worse. "You know, I figured if Snape ignored me as always he might not notice. The effects should wear out in short..."

And her face went much down-er. And Harry was starting to appreciate, with much bewilderment, that he could tell very well understand why! Of course, she was not ignoring them as much as he was avoiding every male student that was near her. As she was currently on that too: at this point she was blocking both sides of her face with her hand so she could only see forwards.

Harry's own cheeks felt very hot all of the sudden. That and he felt an uncontrollable urge to snort. Sadly, Ron wasn't thinking it that amusing.

"Lust potion?" he said. "But you don't look lust-driven!"

"Shhh!" Hermione said, still with the hands on her face and stopping on her track. Harry offered, "Maybe you are underestimating Hermione's capacity for self-control."

Ron glared. "Well, _you_ aren't! I think Hermione made a mistake and didn't brew a Lust Potion."

Hermione stopped again, but he was half hidden in bushy hair and her hands and, in a continuous refusal to look Ron's way, lowering her head. "Oh because you are suddenly The Master on the knowledge of love and passion!"

"Yeah, maybe I am!" Ron said defensively-- but sounding stupid, to whoever's ears. "I'll bet it's wrong. I didn't see you drool over any boy today!"

"I'm not going to drool over some boy only because I feel some – some lust, Ron Weasley!" said Hermione, for a second looking like she was going to turn to him and definitely getting flustered. And the word "lust" came as if it pained her or scared her.

Then Ron saw, as he was looking forwards himself, Hagrid, who was finally found some spot to wait for the students, and his mind did a very odd click.

"Of course!" he said, "you don't lust over boys because you are absolutely in love with the professors! I'll bet you like someone like Flitwick or Hagrid, don't you?"

Hermione looked up at Ron's face, at last; the hands dropped and face flushed, but was especially shocked, still and unbelieving. Something in Ron's mind said "aha!"

And Hermione stomped hard on Ron's feet.

"OUCH!"

"Alrigh', students… Students! Settle down!"

Hagrid gestured the last of the students dangerously nearing the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Some seemed to realize this, while the others were maybe a bit too busy ogling each other.

If Hagrid noticed any of the students' uncommon behavior, he surely didn't exteriorize it. He hesitated once or twice when he saw Crabbe and Goyle hitting one another in the back of the head various times, each time harder... but shook his head; no comments.

He busied himself bringing huge stones and pumpkins into a round ending more or less in the Forbidden Forest, apparently so that the students could sit, facing it.

"That's 'bout it! We'r all settled up," he said and cleaned his sweat in a towel he used as handkerchief. "Come closer, it's this... 'Mione, yer sure you feel well?"

And Harry realized with some horror, upon turning the same way, Hermione was there indeed and… let me say she was looking a _lot_ more at ease. She was sighing contentedly and ahead, almost in trance and it seemed she had forgotten her previous exercise: avoiding looking at boys. Therefore how she got caught staring...

"Centaurs?!" Ron said, horrified.

"I wasn't!" To Hermione dismay, that had came out so sudden, she could do nothing but hyperventilate.

"That's it!" Ron took her by the arm. "You are coming with me to get an antidote." He called as he was moving away, "Hagrid, we are leaving to take Hermione to the Hospital Wing!"

"Ron!" Hermione protested blushing madly as Ron carried her away (Welcome to my world, Hermione— Harry's thoughts.)

"I'ff prepared a special class fer today! We'r visited by an ol' friend relative," Hagrid was telling them. "Oh, right, Ron, you can go."

Hagrid looked somewhat disappointed but was not thwarted.

He coughed into his massive fist with a smile. "Ev'rybody, meet Rufus!"

Without any other presentation, other than the provocative (...no) hairy, peeking stick-like leg, something black and tall as a person jumped out of the forest shadow into sight. A something that had eight legs, hunger and went for the students—

"ARGH!"

Ron Weasley found himself clinging to the smaller body of Hermione Granger, who in turn had sized his and Harry's wrist pulling them away. Now, quite honestly, this would usually be Harry's role and Hermione would lose it to panic. But concentration to impede lust was currently stronger than panic, and Harry's only thoughts were '_From all the brilliant plans..._'

The crowd dispersed like a scared herd, to the chorus of screams and shouting. A few more students ran the other way towards the gates back to the school; the others either tripped in fear and looked for cover, two behind Hagrid, or dived behind trees, some even into the Forest without a second thought.

Like the last, so were our three heroes.

"Are you okay?" asked Hermione, motherly staring up at Harry. He was caught up in staring back at Hagrid trying to regain control of the one meter and half tall acromantula he had brought for today's class. ("Ya promis'd to behave!" Hagrid shouted as he was wrestling with the giant, overexcited spider.) "Huh? Yeah, yes, I'm fine – and Ron?"

But something must have been wrong, that with Ron's face being that tone of red.

"Fine, if you are so capable of helping each other... you don't need me."

And as soon, he was strutting away, without looking at Harry OR Hermione! Harry was perplexed but... Hermione…

Hermione had come to ask Harry if he was okay and looked him in the eyes, and... she _did_ look, maybe, a bit too lovingly. But, Ron? She hadn't spared him a look, not even as Ron sulked away. Harry thought Ron had every reason to be offended!

"Why did you – Hermione, no, listen to me – you go look for him, I'm going back to help Hagrid. Don't come back without him," he added with his best dead serious expression.

Hermione looked to want to protest, but Harry moved away. He saw they were going for the exit of the forest and towards the lake. That gave him enough reassurance of their safety before coming back looking for the others and for Hagrid, drawing his wand out with the intention to help.

He found Neville who had been more or less followed them (Hermione, specifically) and got lost… sigh… so Harry pointed him towards the exit.

He came across Seamus who got himself somewhat tangled in a wriggly branch which was either a baby devil's snare or... maybe a whooping willow, but he got himself out of that one alone.

At some point, too, Ron came back, looking for Harry. ("I heard a scream." Neville's… "Where's Hermione?" "She's back at the school grounds." And then he left and that's about it.) Then he found Pansy sitting in 'trance' on a clearing in the grounds, "Shhh! I'm about to cross this plane of existence into eternity."

He left her shaking his head. Hagrid had scared the acromantula away and most students seemed to be back but, to make sure, Harry wandered over the woods a bit longer. Then, a murmuring caught his attention.

Harry pushed some dead branches and brushes out of the way and stumbled upon a clearing. The voice at that point became familiar to him, and then recognizable. A sudden impulse sized him and he shielded himself from view behind a three, clenching the wand hard on his hand.

Malfoy had a three-quarter turned his back to Harry, where he could still make a face. From the blabbing, he picked the words "Pansy" and "fat cow." This was it, perfect opportunity Harry sized for action. He stepped into the clearing, just at the time of Malfoy's "oh, bloody nevermind!" his shoulders slumped down, and he was walking away; he had not noticed Harry. But where was Pansy?

Something was odd. It was the same nasty smirk Harry knew so well, his natural body language, walking importantly and with that laughing sneer. But, apparently, he had been talking… to a tree. (Were everyone going to act like madmen today?)

Harry followed Malfoy to the edge of the forbidden forest were a bit of lake loomed over them. He had watched previous his usual nasty expression melted out from his face as if result of a spell, out from the version of the old proud Malfoy; defeated, and purposeless. Malfoy was now sulking and sitting on the ground, pulling the grass besides him to throw away in moody fashion.

He looked positively miserable-- and it served him right!

However strange it was to see him, Malfoy, just giving up, this changed nothing. Whatever the circumstances, Harry had enough. 'Suppose this didn't happen often… but he would have to stand up to Malfoy… for Pansy. Weird life…

"Leave her alone," he had said as he went up to finally face him; Malfoy swirled around fast forwards with a shocked expression. "I don't know what your problem with Pansy is –"

"Don't meddle in my life, Potter!" was Malfoy's sole retort when he found his voice, and by chance remembered he was supposed to act sulky. Harry stepped forwards.

"You treat her like scum!"

"What do _you_ care! Don't you have someone to boast about your stupid scar?" Malfoy bleated.

"You mean like you?" Harry shook his head. "It's Pansy we are talking about. I'm serious, Malfoy. What has she done to you?"

"She's a big daft hag that she did! That little, arse, miss perfect thinks she can just walk around followed by her crowd of hag fans! _Can I join you for shopping? You have such a good taste, Pans! Oh I don't know what I would do without you, Pans!_ I'll bet she also has articles in the daily prophet," he pouted-ly rambled to what Harry could only frown, bewildered.

"What are you talking about!" he asked, then chuckled with his own evil smirk. "Oh, I get it. It seems somebody got sore he got dumped by his love potion-fed girlfriend."

"Shut up, Pansy."

Harry let the insulting sentence pass in lieu of a more attention-drawing content of the same. "Pansy? I'm Potter, Malfoy."

The innocent (albeit confused) remark had a powerful effect on the other boy. Realization, or some other thing, washed over Malfoy's expression while his eyes grew big as plates.

"Malfoy!"

Draco startled as Harry stepped forwards and spoke; Malfoy held his hands defensively, "What, no, it's alright, nothing wrong!"

"I didn't _ask_ if something was wrong!" Harry said in a grave voice going high-pitched out of bewilderment; _whenever was this about he even caring there was something wrong?_

Malfoy lowered his hands to the ground and grew a smirk. "Oh, yeah," he said, leaning back. "I would feel insulted if I had been called a Pansy myself." His smirk grew. "Or a _Pansy_."

Harry was furious to be driven to retort, "That's not what I meant."

Malfoy laughed holding his stomach and flinging his feet over the ground. "I asked-- no," Harry started over, "I'm telling you to leave Pansy alone. You can't be bullying somebody because they reject you!" Funny, wasn't it the other way round…?

Malfoy last chuckles died into a sneer and he was glaring at a blind spot; he looked up with a smirk that had formed in his face, twitching as he mouthed the word 'no'.

"Make me."

--

"Am I really that ugly?"

Ron was asking.

This was while escorting Hermione thought the corridors to the Hospital Wing. They had stopped, Hermione had been distracted again by the faint sight of some boy passing by, surely, and it snapped said question. Ron had gone from angry to positively… sad.

Hermione had finally agreed to go to see the School Nurse now the class had been... cancelled, let's say. Also, she didn't feel much better. All the while, she had of course avoided Ron and, as well, had not been as picky about any other passing-byer. Reason why now Ron was sulking, being too proud to look openly offended for too long.

"No!" Hermione had responded in a moment of despair and forcing her gaze away from this Ravenclaw Quidditch player coming from Charms-- So even she could tell Ron had reasons to act like that, yes. It was still childish but… It was her role to be the most… _mature_ in their rela--friendship.

Ermso…

Hermione gulped after several moments of gapping, closing and opening her mouth to speak. It was just a moment before she realized she had looked at him directly, 'corrected' herself and unconsciously added to Ron's paranoia and grunting. Hermione was VERY mad at the part of her brain that was currently in charge of his locomotor functions.

"Oh, don't _be_ like that Ron… If I don't look at you it's because... you know, I…" Hermione gulped. She had no way out of this one… "I find you more attractive than Harry," she tried to explain composedly, and she did manage to sound as if she was giving a lecture about homework.

"Yes, sure, like I'm going to eat that," Ron answered, walking with such violent gesture you might think he was punching the air. Of course, Hermione got flustered and angry again with the speed of lightening.

"See yourself! I just told you I like you and-- and you are so busy being jealous and a prick you don't care I did!" she said, besides herself, walking fast behind him because she could barely keep up.

Ron stopped on his tracks, causing Hermione to almost bump on him, and turned and seemed to immediately regret this.

He looked at Hermione with his mouth gapping open, glared with his mouth gapping open, and looked about to leave with his mouth gapping open. Then turned around at the last minute and poutly said,

"Well, who—who just told you that was – going to make me feel any better!" he finished, hands raised and walking forwards again. His movements were still strange, though they lacked the same gusto from before… He didn't seem to be able to flex his muscles. Not that Hermione would tell in HER current state…

"YOU UNBELIEVABLE, UNFEELING GIT!"


End file.
